


What the Wise Man Saw

by sunstarunicorn



Series: Magical Flashpoint Side Stories [11]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Secrets, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: Why did Artorius and Victoria choose Greg Parker as their children’s guardian?  Did they know about Greg losing his first family?  A series of snapshots set before tragedy struck, as Artorius and Victoria struggle to keep their children safe in a dangerous world.  A Magical Flashpoint Side Story





	1. Birth of a Gryphon

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the Magical Flashpoint Side Story series. This story comes before "At the Intersection of Magic and Technology".
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_ , _Harry Potter_ , _Narnia_ , or _Merlin_.
> 
> Lastly, while I was planning on posting this over the weekend, I currently have a snow day and so intend to _carpe diem_ and get this posted. Do Enjoy All and Please Keep Praying.

The young wizard paced in the hospital corridor, doing his best to keep from wringing his hands. The Healers had chased him out of the birthing room when ‘Toria started screaming at him and trying to get to her wand. He leaned against the wall, as close to where his wife was as possible, listening to her alternating screams and pants. ‘Toria’s pregnancy had been going so well…until she’d come in for a routine Healer exam and the Healers had Flooed him to come immediately. Now, hours later, their first child was already being difficult.

“Artorius?”

Artorius turned towards the voice and smiled wanly at the sight of his parents. Percival Calvin, the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Calvin, and his lady wife, Alexandria, stood side by side, concern for their daughter-in-law and grandchild clear. Percival was quite similar to his son, tall, with brown hair, and a lanky build, though his eyes were gray; Alexandria was small and petite next to her husband and son, with dark, auburn hair that flowed down her back, very blue eyes, and a dark complexion.

“How is she?” Alexandria asked, moving close to her son and laying a hand on his arm.

‘Toria’s next bout of screaming answered for him; he just dropped his head into his hands as his wife cried out. “They kicked me out,” he mumbled.

He missed his mother’s fierce look as she traded looks with his father and declared, “They won’t kick _me_ out.” With that, Lady Calvin swept past and into the birthing room.

Artorius felt his father’s arm settle around his shoulders. “Easy, son; I know it’s hard to listen to, but, when it’s over and you’re holding that little bundle of joy, it’s all worth it.”

The young man smiled at that…a son or daughter of his own, to raise and guide as his parents had with him, to teach the family magic, to watch with pride as they grew up, found families of their own; the entire scene played out in his mind’s eye.

“Thanks, dad,” he whispered as a new sound cut the air, a baby’s wail. Both men jerked around and Percival had to keep his son from running into the birthing room right then and there.

Fortunately, it only took few minutes for his wife to appear, gesturing their son in to meet their new grandchild. Artorius was oblivious to everything except his wife and child as he hurried past his mother to Victoria’s side.

“Arthur,” Victoria breathed, looking up from the newborn to her husband for a moment. Artorius’ hand came down, stroking the newborn’s face, his eyes wide with wonder at the small bundle. The baby, who already sported a small shock of brown hair, snuggled against his father’s finger, squeaking contentment and reaching out one pudgy little hand. The baby gave a little sneeze and Victoria huffed a laugh as she soothed her son. “He’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“ ‘Toria…as we decided?” Artorius questioned, his voice low. Victoria lifted her eyes to his and nodded once. With a broad smile, Artorius tore his gaze from his wife and son to look at his parents. “Mum, Dad, may I present Lancelot Artorius Calvin, the newest Scion of the House of Calvin?” Though formal, his words were tentative, the new father testing the name on for size.

Alexandria’s smile was wide and she exchanged an approving look with her husband. “I think it’s a fine name, son.”

“Very appropriate,” Percival agreed, before moving forward to get a good look at his grandson. “May you carry the name with honor, little one,” he declared quietly.

The new parents beamed at the new grandparents, then Artorius looked down as a tiny, almost invisible, thread of gold wrapped around the fingers of the hand closest to his son and tugged. When he leaned over, his son’s eyes were open and glittered gold. Even as he watched, the gold faded, revealing brilliant sapphire. The baby yawned, unconcerned by the observers, and snuggled deeper into his blankets.

Artorius’ eyes were wide, but he kept quiet as Victoria began to sing their new son to sleep, a soft lullaby that she had brought with her from America. Barely an hour old and already his son’s magic had manifested. A tingle danced up his hand and Artorius wondered, briefly, what might be in store for a Wild Mage stronger than his family had seen in generations.


	2. Birth of a Phoenix

The atmosphere was both solemn and joyous as father and son stood outside the birthing room. Two-year-old Lance was pouting, unhappy to be parted from his new sibling for _any_ reason; the little boy saw the entire birthing process as merely another obstacle between himself and a new playmate. Artorius scooped his son up, bouncing him and smiling at his son’s gleeful squeal.

“ ‘hen baby come?” Lance asked, pouting at his father again.

“Soon, son,” Artorius soothed.

“ ‘ant to play ‘ith her,” Lance insisted, a little loudly.

“Shhh,” Artorius chided, “Give your mother a little peace, there, boyo. And we don’t know if it’s going to be a girl or a boy yet.”

His son was unimpressed. “Girl,” he insisted, even louder.

“Lancelot.” A single word, with enough warning packed into it to make even the two-year-old obey.

The little boy gave a dramatic – but quiet – sigh. “ ‘hen Gamma and Gampa coming?”

Artorius snuck a look at the door, hoping to see his parents. “I don’t know, sport,” he admitted. “They should be here soon.”

As if on cue, two figures appeared and hurried to their son and grandson. Lance lit up, but, at a warning _Look_ from his father, restrained himself to merely lunging out of his father’s arms and into his grandfather’s. “Baby come soon,” he declared, marginally more quiet than he had been; his father just sighed. “Baby sistuh for me,” Lance added proudly.

“A baby sister, huh, sport?” Percival asked, raising both brows at his grandson. Lance nodded as fast as he could.

“Artorius?” Alexandria questioned in an undertone.

Artorius shrugged helplessly. “He’s been insisting it’s a girl for weeks, Mum. I don’t know where he got it…we didn’t want to know, just like when he was born.” As his father distracted the little boy, Artorius sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure _what_ to do, Mum…three months ago I found him, already in his Animagus form; I’ve locked the form down for now, but if he gets to it again…I don’t think I _can_ lock it down again.”

“My goodness,” Alexandria breathed. “He certainly has a talent.”

Artorius nodded, but lowered his voice even further. “Any news?”

A grim look. “The Ministry still hasn’t gotten their heads out of the sand, but _He_ is on the move, that much is certain. And the longer those fools refuse to acknowledge the truth, the worse it will be.”

A baby’s wail cut the air, drawing instant attention. “Baby sistuh!” Lance cried, a two-year-old’s triumph in his voice. He squirmed in his grandfather’s arms, but his grandfather held him fast, letting Artorius take the lead through the door.

Artorius reached his wife’s side just as the Healer placed the newborn bundle in her arms. The newborn was completely bald and had a squished look to _her_ features. “A girl?” he breathed, shocked at the validation of his son’s prediction.

“A girl,” ‘Toria agreed, just as stunned. The little girl’s eyes flicked open as her father ran a wondering finger across her face; violet eyes met light blue and the baby managed a tiny giggle and waved a chubby hand that had snuck free of the blankets. This time, Artorius let his wife introduce the newborn. “Mother, Father,” ‘Toria began, smiling at her in-laws, “Meet Alanna Victoria Calvin, the newest member of the House of Calvin.”

“Baby sistuh!” Lance declared proudly. “ ‘ant to meet.”

“Give your father a chance to meet her first,” Alexandria chided her grandson.

Lance’s face fell, but he stopped squirming. “Daddy meet sistuh,” he agreed after a moment’s deep consideration. “Me meet sistuh too.”

It seemed like forever to the little boy, but, soon enough, his infant sister was placed in his arms with the gentle, “Be careful with her, Lance. Support her head.”

The two-year-old nodded solemnly; he would be the bestest big brother _ever_. “Hi, baby sistuh,” he greeted the newborn, “I Lance, you big brother.” A thread of violet light danced around him and he giggled. “That tickles,” he declared, letting his own magic out. Violet and gold twined around each other, lighting up the siblings’ corner of the room.

‘Toria was looking at her in-laws, conversing quietly with them, leaving only Artorius to watch as his children got acquainted with each other. In the shadows behind them, he ‘saw’ who they could be, who they could become, and he shivered a little. Two Wild Mages, both far more powerful than those who had come before, and he had precious little idea of how to raise them properly. All he could give…was love.


	3. Shadows of War

Artorius paced furiously; as Victoria entered the room, she saw her husband hurl the glass in his hand at the wall with an agonized, grieving wail. Then he went straight down, collapsing bonelessly as she flew to him, wrapping him in a hug; he trembled with shock and grief. “Why, ‘Toria?” She shook her head against his shoulders. “They…they hadn’t done anything…they never hurt anyone…why…why… _why?_ ” Against her chest, he dissolved into sobs, pulling her close and wrapping around her, keening and grieving in a way that reminded her of his Animagus form.

She stroked his head, letting her own tears fall and mix with his. She’d adored her in-laws; they’d burst every misgiving she’d ever had about moving to England and leaving her home country behind. She’d never had to worry about the ‘dragon’ of a mother-in-law…unless she did something foolish and then she was scolded up one side and down the other, just like her _own_ mother would do. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly as her husband’s cries lessened. “I don’t know; it makes no sense.” Even as she cried, she wiped the tears away from his eyes. “We’re going to get through this, Arthur; we’re going to be okay. We’ve got each other, we have the children; we’re going to be _just_ fine.”

“Oh, Aslan, the kids,” he whimpered. “How do I tell them, ‘Toria…how do I tell them their grandparents are gone?”

She wept harder, pressing her face against his. “We’ll tell them together, Arthur; I’m with you, remember?”

“To the end,” he managed. It took him a second, but, “Let this be the hour when we draw swords together.”

“Fell deeds awake,” she whispered.

“Now for wrath,” he replied.

“Now for ruin.”

“And the red dawn,” they finished together.

His eyes were wet and red, but he shakily pulled himself together. “I-if something happens…?”

“My folks,” she murmured, understanding him without words.

“I wish…”

“Arthur?”

A sniffle. “I wish I had more family…aunts, uncles, cousins… _something_.”

She hugged him harder. “I wish that, too,” she whispered back.

As the night continued, they sat together in the front room, cradling each other and mourning for their loved ones, gone home to Aslan. Their once secure world had fallen apart and neither knew how to put it back together.

* * * * *

When Artorius read the letter from Gringotts, he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. This was going to _shatter_ Victoria. But there was nothing to be done, so he went downstairs and watched as Victoria laughed at their two children. Lance had managed – somehow – to get into the shed and he’d promptly found a paint bucket left over from some recent upkeep. Naturally, the three-and-a-half-year-old had brought his find back to the house for his sister to see; now both children were _covered_ in white paint, their hair clumped with the stuff. Victoria was trying to scold Lance, but that was difficult when she kept stopping to laugh at his and Alanna’s twin wide-eyed looks of mixed delight and dismay.

Artorius closed his eyes again, then opened them up and stepped into the room. “Mindy,” he called. As the house-elf appeared with a _pop_ , he instructed, “Please take the children and get them cleaned up. Keep them busy until we call for you again.”

“Mindy do, Master,” the little elf squeaked, before gathering up the two children and departing.

‘Toria frowned at her husband; normally, she would have cleaned the two up herself. “Arthur?” Both question and warning; the American born witch had _never_ gotten completely used to the idea of house-elves and disliked what smacked of slavery to her.

Her husband sighed heavily and held the letter out. “ ‘Toria, I’m so sorry,” was all he could say as she took the letter.

Her wail rang out; the letter slipped from her hand only halfway read and she would have collapsed if not for her husband catching her. “No, no, _no_ , _NO!_ ” she shrieked; she pounded on her husband’s chest, her shrieks dissolving into anguished weeping.

He held her as she had held him months earlier, stroking her hair and whispering reassurances that he was there and they were going to be okay. She sobbed harder, clinging to him with everything she had. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, cradling her and rocking her. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

He looked down at the letter and away, wishing it had never come, wishing its news had never happened. Artorius had _liked_ Victoria’s parents; elder, Victoria the unexpected surprise late in their lives. He hadn’t known them as well as she had known _his_ parents; a consequence of the two living in England instead of America. They hadn’t even had a chance to meet their second grandchild, what with everything going on in Britain and the deaths of _his_ parents, they’d put off the trip to America until Alanna turned two.

It took him a moment to realize Victoria’s sobs had died away, though his wife’s eyes were still filled and tears fell freely down her cheeks.

Artorius almost choked, but he whispered, “Let this be the hour when we draw swords together.”

Recognition in her eyes. “Fell deeds awake,” she whispered back.

“Now for wrath.”

“Now for ruin.”

Together, “And the red dawn.”

Silence hung between them. “I hate them so much,” Victoria managed, “Your parents, _my_ parents; where does it stop, Arthur?”

“I don’t know, honey,” Artorius admitted, twining his fingers with hers. “I just don’t know.”

“They can’t have my children,” the witch declared; Artorius nodded just as firmly.

“We’ll have to do _something_ , ‘Toria…right now, the closest blood relation they have is…”

“Is who?”

His head dropped. “Mum was a Lestrange before she married…brother to the late Lord…that makes the _Lestranges_ our closest kin.”

Her eyes turned frantic. “No, no, Arthur; they _cannot_ have our children.”

Artorius hugged her tighter. “They won’t, ‘Toria; I promise you that. We may have another option.”

“Tell me.”

“We can overrule my mum’s kin if we can find someone in Dad’s line…paternal beats maternal, even if the relation is more distant.”

“But your family hasn’t had more than one child in generations,” Victoria pointed out, confused.

“True,” Artorius conceded. “After…” he choked, but forced the words out, “…after Mum and Dad died, I told the goblins to start a genealogy search, find any possible relatives on Dad’s side.”

“They found someone,” she breathed.

A nod against her hair. “His name’s Greg Parker; he’s a Muggle please man in Canada.”

With that settled, Victoria’s tears flowed even harder; she clung to her husband, mourning her parents as evening fell and the nighttime hours ticked away. Artorius held her, rocking her and grieving right along with her. Their world was in tatters, there was a madman on the loose, killing at will, and their family now consisted of themselves, their children, and a single cousin in Canada that neither had ever met. _Aslan, please, be with us…all of us,_ Artorius prayed. _Protect my children, no matter what._


	4. Cousins Meet

Artorius smiled as his cousin arrived at the meeting site: a quiet Muggle park close to where the man worked. The Calvins were all in Muggle attire for the occasion, provided by Gringotts as opposed to Madam Malkin’s. Victoria, Lance, and little Alanna had found a bench to sit on, out of the way of the initial meeting between the two men. The four-year-old Lance had been sternly warned against using his magic in the Muggle area; rather than argue with two-year-old Alanna, Artorius had just put a child-lock on her magic for the duration.

“Greg Parker?” Artorius questioned, cocking his head to the side as the stocky man approached, curiosity shining in his brown eyes.

“Yes,” the new arrival confirmed, “I assume you’re…Arthur?”

“I am,” Artorius replied, shaking the other man’s hand. “I realize it must seem like I just appeared out of nowhere…” he began sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

A gentle smile. “If your letter was any indication, you’re a bit of a genealogist.”

“Something like that,” Artorius agreed, still sheepish now that he was face to face with his cousin. “It’s still a bit of a new interest of mine…I wasn’t expecting to actually meet with any success for quite a while.” All true, even if he was leaving a few details out.

Brown eyes lit with laughter as the Muggle chuckled at his magical cousin. “Literally meet with success as the case may be,” he teased, drawing an answering smile. “Well, if you find anyone else, I wouldn’t mind hearing about it.”

“Definitely,” Artorius agreed at once. “So, um, do you have a family?”

Parker lit up even more. “I do,” he replied, beaming. “My son’s four-and-a-half now; he’s our pride and joy.”

Artorius beamed right back. “My son’s just a little younger,” he confided, just as proud, “And my daughter just turned two.”

Victoria overheard enough to lean over and whisper to the children; they waved at their cousin, though Lance was more enthusiastic than his sister. Parker’s eyes went wide, then he looked at Artorius for permission; Artorius nodded, stepping back to let the other man approach his wife and children. Parker nodded a greeting to Victoria, then he knelt to be on Lance’s level. Little Alanna ducked back behind her mother and brother, shy in the face of an unknown stranger, but Lance, as adventurous and bold as any four-year-old, immediately chirped, “Hi, I’m Lance and I’m four!”

Parker pretended to stagger back in shock. “Four, huh? That’s pretty grown up, isn’t it?” Lance’s head bobbed firm agreement. “How ‘bout your sister? How old is she?”

Now the boy turned a little shy. “Alanna two,” he told his cousin. “She my little sister.”

“We’re working on full sentences,” Victoria told the Muggle, laughter dancing in her voice. “I’m Victoria.”

“I know how that goes,” Parker agreed, his own eyes dancing as he briefly looked up at her. He turned back to the little boy. “It’s very nice to meet you, your mother, and your sister, Lance; I’m Greg, your cousin.”

Lance cocked his head to the side, considering that. “You Alanna’s cousin, too?”

“Yes, I am,” Parker confirmed solemnly, though his eyes danced even more. “I even have a son just a little older than you.”

The boy perked up. “Meet?” he asked hopefully.

His parents shook their heads. “Not today, son,” Artorius informed the four-year-old. “Maybe another time.”

Parker looked just as disappointed as the boy, but Artorius didn’t want to test his son’s magical self-control around another little boy. Just then, Alanna, judging by the brief flicker in her eyes, tried to use her magic and ran square into the child lock. She burst into tears when her magic failed to respond, wailing indignation that her magic was locked away from her. Victoria tried to sooth the little girl, but she just cried harder.

“I’m sorry, please excuse us,” she apologized to Parker as she rose, pulling Alanna up as the girl screamed.

“No, it’s no problem; I understand,” Parker replied before mother and daughter whisked away to another, quieter area, leaving father and son behind with their cousin.

Lance looked after his sister, but soon returned his attention to his cousin. “What you do?” he asked, his eyes shining as they rested on the Muggle objects attached to Parker’s belt.

“I’m a police officer,” Parker replied, smiling at the little boy. “I just got promoted to Detective and now I investigate when people get hurt and find out what happened to them.”

“Can’t they tell you?” Lance questioned.

“Sometimes they can’t,” was the reply. “That’s when I and my partner come in; we find out what happened, even if they can’t tell us and we go after the bad guys responsible.”

Artorius sucked in a breath as gold glittered in the back of his son’s eyes; neither Lance nor Parker noticed his response. Lance snagged his cousin’s sleeve, suddenly very solemn. “Not right for you,” he said. “Care too much. Help people who talk back.”

Parker blinked at the advice, looking back and up at Artorius, who was just as caught off guard. The father was reminded, sharply, of his son predicting that he would have a little sister, insistent to the point that any mention of a brother was met with protests and wails about ‘baby sistuh’. He’d been right, so Artorius suspected that whatever his son ‘saw’ this time was also right. Still, he had to keep the Statute, so he merely spread his hands and shrugged helplessly.

Lance’s eyes, still glittering, turned even sadder at his father’s gesture. “Meet again,” he declared quietly, drawing Parker’s eyes back to him. “Daddy says, even if it gets dark, dawn always comes.”

Parker clearly didn’t understand, but he smiled. “That sounds like very good advice, kiddo. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Artorius restrained his own response as he watched the pair and ‘saw’ both of them, older, wiser, sadder, and face to face with precious little family left. He hoped, _prayed_ he was wrong, but he feared, very much so, that he was right.


	5. Unfit Guardian

“He’s doing _what_?” Artorius demanded sharply of Silnok, their family account manager.

The goblin sighed, looking none too pleased with his own report. “Drinking himself to death,” he replied flatly. “The stress of working murders drove your cousin to drink, thus driving his family away – literally. Between the most recent murder he worked and the loss of his family, he has decided to commit suicide by alcohol poisoning.”

Artorius hissed in dismay.

“Regardless, Lord Calvin…I would not consider such a one as a fit guardian for your children should anything…unforeseen occur.”

Artorius sighed heavily and nodded agreement. “It’s not quite as critical anymore,” he mused to himself. “You finished the genealogy study?” At Silnok’s nod, he asked, “Who else is available?”

Silence hung. Slowly, very slowly, Artorius turned to look at Silnok, both brows raised. “No one,” Silnok admitted. “Gregory Parker is the last _adult_ candidate…all the other cadet lines have died out. His son would not be eligible until he reaches his majority in the _Muggle_ world…far too late to be of any use to your children. If Parker dies, you are left with the Lestranges, at _best_.”

“They _aren’t_ an option,” Artorius growled, pacing back and forth.

“Then you must render them unfit,” Silnok announced, watching the upset lord pace. “If, perhaps, you pressed Lord Longbottom to lay claim against their House for the attack on his parents, you would then give him the leverage to claim your children by right of the Lestrange blood in their veins.”

Artorius frowned. “What of any Lestranges _outside_ of Britain, slim as that chance would be? How would _they_ be affected?” _And could_ they _take the children?_ hung between the two.

The goblin sighed. “They would lose their rights to the House of Lestrange, Lord Calvin. The House of Lestrange would _surrender_ , in perpetuity, to the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom. Even _if_ you sought them out, there is no guarantee that such exist _or_ that they hold differing views to the Lestranges of Britain. Nor would they necessarily be in a position to claim your children. A Squib, for example, could not lay claim; the magical Lestranges would hold precedence.”

“My cousin is a Muggle,” Artorius pointed out grimly.

“Yes,” Silnok agreed. “In _his_ case, however, there are no claimants with the standing to challenge as he _is_ related to you through your father in a _direct_ paternal line; thus, Parker wins guardianship by default. Any other options and,” Silnok spread his hands, “Such would be forced to contend with the Lestranges as the family with the _closest_ blood relation to your children.”

Artorius swore to himself; to deny any unknown possible Lestranges their heritage smacked of injustice, it _felt_ wrong. At the same time, his cousin was much occupied in drinking himself to death, leaving his children with no other options.

“If he dies, I’ll speak with Lord Longbottom,” Artorius decided. “But for now, he stays in the will as their guardian. I’ll not risk them going to the House of _Malfoy_ as the House of Lestrange’s proxies.” There was a pause as Artorius debated with himself. “If, if Parker pulls through…see about helping him, discreetly.”

* * * * *

“Arthur, are you sure?” ‘Toria questioned anxiously. “If he’s drinking…”

“It feels wrong, ‘Toria,” Artorius admitted. “I don’t know why, but I feel like, if I try to get the Lestranges declared ineligible, I’m cutting off something…I don’t even know what, just that it’s important, ‘Toria.” The wizard was silent for several moments. “I wish I could explain it, ‘Toria, but I can’t.”

“Is it your magic?” ‘Toria asked. At his nod, she blew out a breath, considering her response. After several minutes, she finally announced, “We’ve trusted in Him so far; as foolish as this sounds to _me_ , I will trust His Will.”

“I’ll keep an eye on things, ‘Toria,” Artorius promised. “Trusting and being stupid are two different things.” He laughed, a trifle bitter. “Who knows, maybe he’ll turn himself around and become one of the _best_ Muggle please men in his city.”

“I know you will, Arthur, and stranger things have happened,” Victoria replied, resting a hand on his arm. “Now, I believe you need to have a _discussion_ with _your_ daughter and explain why Mommy does _not_ want to find a violet colored _phoenix chick_ in the house again _any_ time soon.”

Artorius’ eyes went wide. “A phoenix?” he whispered. “I did wonder…Dad mentioned once that Calvin females have a different Animagus form, but I wasn’t sure…neither was he.”

‘Toria crossed her arms, uninterested in the reasons behind her daughter’s _specific_ form. “Just see that it doesn’t happen again, Arthur.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Artorius replied with a deep bow to his wife. Then he hurried upstairs to have a quiet _word_ with his daughter…and lock her Animagus form down like he had his son’s.


	6. The Negotiator

“How is he, Silnok?” Artorius questioned as soon as he and the goblin were alone.

“Much better,” the goblin declared, looking pleased. “A young Muggle child reached out to your cousin before he could accomplish his goal…he subsequently sobered up and visited her. We have seen to it that resources to keep him sober are…very available. There is even a place we have quietly made known to him with an excellent reputation in the field of…self-abuse.”

Artorius let his breath out in a whoosh and sat down in the chair. “Thank you, Silnok.” The goblin inclined his head at the thanks. “And his job?”

“He is hardly fit for Homicide,” Silnok replied, turning thoughtful. “We are exploring a number of options and will present what we can, within the limits of the Statute, of course.”

“Keep me informed?”

“Certainly, Lord Calvin.”

* * * * *

Silnok hardly waited for the door to close before he announced, in a very pleased voice, “Your cousin has found his feet again.”

“He’s found a new job?” Artorius questioned.

“Yes and no, Lord Calvin…he remains a police officer,” as Artorius’ shoulders slumped, Silnok went on, “But he has transferred to a new unit…the Strategic Response Unit. That unit will give him a better outlet for his…talents.”

“Explain,” Artorius requested.

Silnok inclined his head. “Your cousin has a great talent for understanding his fellow human beings; ironically, it is that very talent that likely led to his breakdown. Someone who understands others so easily likely had a great deal of trouble with the…constant…darkness that surrounds homicides, magical or not.” A fierce goblin grin. “Now, he can leverage his talent to best advantage, _saving_ lives instead of investigating their loss.”

Artorius was not so sure, but at least his cousin was no longer drowning himself in alcohol. That was worth something.

* * * * *

The door closed behind Artorius as he entered the goblin’s office. Silnok looked up at him, those new reading glasses of his perched on the goblin’s nose. “How is he, Silnok?” Artorius questioned, settling himself in the chair before the desk.

“He is doing quite well, Lord Calvin,” Silnok replied. “He has risen to the rank of Sergeant and now commands the SRU’s premier team. His teammates are good men and women; they have become his surrogate family. Our fears of eight years ago have not come to pass.”

“Thank Aslan,” Artorius breathed, leaning forward.

“Lord Calvin?” Silnok questioned, both brows going up.

Artorius sighed heavily, then placed his burden on the desk. “I’m going after them, Silnok. I’ve compiled everything I can on these _fanatics_ trying to work their way back into power. I can’t let it happen again, I _can’t_. If I don’t do something, it won’t be _me_ who pays, it will be my _children_.”

“You wish me to make copies?” Silnok inquired.

A firm nod. “If-if something happens, get everything to Lord Potter, Silnok. He’s the only one I trust with this information. Keep it away from my children and their cousin…they’ll have enough to deal with.”

“You believe something will happen.” It was not a question.

Artorius’ eyes rested on the bulging folios he’d piled on the desk. “They won’t take this lying down, Silnok, and you and I _both_ know that the estate is a sitting duck if they work at it hard enough and long enough. I don’t want to die, but if that’s the price to make sure my children are safe, I’ll pay it and gladly.” Hesitantly, Artorius brought out a stack of letters. “I talked to ‘Toria and we’re agreed. She’s going to try and get out with the kids if something happens, but, just in case, we wrote these. When Lance turns seventeen, give him the letters.”

Silnok took the letters and watched as Artorius rose and swept out, head high and back straight. “Aslan bless you and keep you,” the goblin murmured, “Aslan make His face shine on you and be gracious to you; Aslan turn His face toward you and give you peace. **(1)**”

* * * * *

Artorius watched as his children vanished with loyal Mindy. His heart ached and he remembered when they had been born; all the dreams, all the plans, all the hopes he’d had for them. He’d thought to be there with them, to see them grow and learn to soar. Now it was up to his cousin, his cousin who’d lost one family and gained another. _Take care of them, cousin,_ he thought at Greg Parker. _I’m trusting you with what’s most precious to me._

He and Victoria traded looks. In that moment, he saw the trust she had in him, in the decisions he’d made, and smiled at her. Then Arthur turned to face the front entrance, his wand dropping into his hand. Victoria stepped up beside him.

“Together then,” she murmured. _I love you and trust you._

“Let this be the hour when we draw swords together,” he quoted, smiling at her. _I know; love you, too._

“Fell deeds awake,” she replied. _It’s up to our children now._

“Now for wrath.” _They’re going to be okay._

“Now for ruin.” _We’ll see them again, one day._

“And the red dawn,” they finished together, twirling their wands up and to the ready.

Artorius smiled grimly. _Aslan, watch over them. Keep them safe; keep Greg safe too._ As he fought, he poured everything he was into his magic, delaying the Death Eaters as long as possible. He and ‘Toria ended up back to back, fighting multiple Death Eaters off at once. ‘Toria fell first and he turned, catching her. He drew a breath at her sightless eyes.

“ _FOR ASLAN AND FOR NARNIA!!!_ ” he roared, transforming and lunging. A gryphon snarled defiance as he landed on three Death Eaters at once, ripping into them with all of his fury and grief. And when they finally brought him down, fire roared around them, leaving several with horrid burns in addition to the gryphon talon, claw, and beak marks. The gryphon form faded back to human; Artorius left beside his wife as the Death Eaters retreated.

Their children, safely away, would live and would soon be in Toronto, starting a new life far away from England and the war which still, in a very real way, engulfed it. As fire ripped into the once stately home and the Death Eaters fled, satisfied that the threat to their power had been successfully dealt with, the Deep Magic rippled.

* * * * *

What was foolish to man’s eyes, the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea turned to His plan; what was weak to man’s eyes, He turned to His will and glory; what was low and despised, He lifted up and placed in a position of trust, shaming the wise, the strong, and the boastful. And that was why, in the end, though the Death Eaters won the battle that night, they lost the war; though they dealt with the immediate threat, they created a far greater threat to their power; and, though they believed the young Calvins could do nothing, in the end, the Calvins brought their nice, neat, safe world crashing down around them, piece by piece, with the help of those the purebloods shunned, scorned, and spat on.

 

_~ Fin_

 

[1] Altered version of Numbers 6:24-26


End file.
